


Carry Your World ( I'll Carry Your World )

by blooming_atlas



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Jake can be soft when he wants to be, Sherry has the flu and Jake takes care of her, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blooming_atlas/pseuds/blooming_atlas
Summary: “Okay,” he said, getting to his feet as if he had made a decision. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it. “What are you doing?” Sherry demanded, sitting up in alarm. Even as she said it, the question struck her as stupid, since obviously, she could see what he was doing. It was the why that surprised her. “Getting you warm.”Sherry is sick and in a rare moment of gentleness, Jake takes care of her.
Relationships: Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Carry Your World ( I'll Carry Your World )

The chill was worse.

Sherry sat huddled in the blanket, shivering continually. She felt as if she might die from whatever she was suffering from and had some fun imagining the look on Jake’s face when he showed up to take her out to dinner as they planned. She thought of going back to bed and getting under the electric blanket, but if she did that, she would have to admit she was sick, and cancel her dinner plans with Jake... And she didn’t want to do that. When the doorbell rang, she ignored it, because by staying huddled she could conserve what little heat she generated, and moving around made her even colder.

But it rang again, and again, and at last, she struggled to her feet. “What!” she snapped as she neared the door. There was a curiously muffled sound, and she stopped in her tracks, her instincts screaming at her to not to go any closer.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Jake. Open up.”

Stunned, she stared at the wood panels. “Jake?” He was supposed to be here at nine. Did his flight leave early? “Christ, Supergirl. Who else could it be?” he grumbled. Sherry thought she could hear laughter in his voice. She thought of not opening the door. She thought of simply walking away and pretending she wasn’t home. The thing was, she had the flu, and even though it wasn’t serious, she was too embarrassed and ashamed to call off their dinner plans.

And right now, she didn’t want Jake to fret over her like a mother hen, so it behooved her to greet him when she looked and felt like a mess. But Jake wasn’t the type to just leave. That was the excuse she gave herself as she fumbled with the locks, and of course, it was the cold chills that made her fingers tremble. He stood in the hallway with its dingy, worn carpeting. He would have looked totally out of place, in the suit he’d picked out if it hadn’t been for his shaved head and the scar on his right cheek. He looked...clean. Put together. Like a rogue prince come to life. 

Her blue eyes noted every detail, almost hungrily drinking them in and committing them to memory. Sherry’s stomach fluttered, her cheeks flushed just as they did when he’d sent her that rather flirty text last week. After five months apart, he was here...he was finally here. Jake was grinning, but the smile quickly faded at the sight of her standing there swaddled in a blanket. His blue gaze went swiftly down her, then returned to her face. “Are you sick?” he asked in a brusque tone, stepping forward so that he crowded her back, and that easily he was inside her apartment. "You're not even dressed yet. What gives, Sherry?"

He closed the door and reset the locks. “No, I'm just cold.” She moved away from the dangerously close proximity to him, shivering. “What are you doing here so early? I thought your flight came in at eight.” She felt terribly off-balance; she wasn’t prepared to see Jake at all, much less be alone with him in her apartment. This was her sanctuary, where she could let down the guard she always kept between herself and the rest of the world, where she could relax and be herself.

Closing the door behind her often felt as if she had left her ties to the government in the hallway. Here she was free, but she could be free only if she was alone. But as thrilled as she was to have Jake join her in her little slice of heaven, she didn’t want him to see her like this. “I came to take you to that restaurant you never shut up about. Don’t you remember? We set up a reservation.” _Oh._ Sherry's heart sank at the thought of that beautiful red dress she'd picked out collecting dust in her closet. She'd painstakingly picked out the perfect outfit for her first dinner date with Jake and now...now...

“I know...can we just reschedule?” She hugged the blanket around her, suddenly self-conscious about how she must look. She was still wearing sweats, and she hadn’t brushed her hair, so she knew it was mussed around her head in a wild tangle. A long strand hung in her eyes; she pushed it back and blushed, then scowled. She didn’t like the feeling of embarrassment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cared what someone thought of how she looked, but...but Jake was special. He never gave a damn about how messy she looked, but she did.

“Come on, babe. I got all dressed up just for you.” He eyed her critically, moving forward, even more, frowning as he registered the heat in the apartment. “Christ, Sherry, why do you have it so hot in here?”

“I told you, I’m cold.” Despite herself, her voice was shaking. He reached out and placed a warm hand on her forehead. She would have jerked back, but the warmth felt so good she felt herself lean a little into his hand. A slight frown knit his forehead.

“You don’t seem to be feverish.” His knuckles were rubbing lightly back and forth against her forehead and then her cheek. He was so close...so _warm._

“Of course I’m not. I just told you, I’m cold.”

“Then something is wrong because it’s fucking hot in here.”

“Says the man wearing a jacket.” She teased weakly and moved away from him to reclaim her seat in the corner of the couch, curling into herself for warmth. He wasn’t the least put off by her weak attempt at deflecting. “It’s called a suit,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Do you feel ill in any other way?” At the word, _'ill'_ , Sherry shrank into herself even more.

“I...I think it's the flu.” He regarded her stubbornly set face for a moment. “You know I don’t mind rescheduling if you’re sick.”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to mess this up,” she muttered, though she didn’t really think so. The coldness had begun with the change, so she had thought there was nothing she could do about it. On the other hand, the thought that she might actually be ill wasn’t any more welcome. She didn’t have time for illness, so she refused to be ill. It was that simple. She just wanted to spend her three weeks off with Jake and not have to worry about huddling in bed feeling like she’d gotten run over by a truck.

His eyes were sharp and probing as he continued to study her. “How long has this been going on?” If she hadn’t been so cold, she could have asserted herself, but it was difficult to sound assertive when anything she said was filtered through chattering teeth. Rather than appear ridiculous, she said, “I’ve been feeling like this for three days.” _No use in hiding this._

“You need to rest,” he said decisively. “Come on, I’ll carry you to bed.”

“Forget it.” Pulling the blanket closer, Sherry rested her head on her knees. Deciding to turn the pressure on him, she said, “You should have called before you came over.”

“So you could tell me not to come to see you? I wanted it to be a surprise. That’s why I didn’t call.” He touched her hand and frowned at the iciness of her fingers. “Well, I can’t go out, and you can bet your last penny I’m not going to cook for you, Jake Muller.” 

“I don’t expect you to, babe.” Jake was still frowning as he watched her, half-turned toward her with one arm resting along the back of the couch. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, wishing he would go. He was too close, and she was too cold. A woman couldn’t muster her defenses when she had to concentrate on shivering. “Okay,” he said, getting to his feet as if he had made a decision. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it.

“What are you doing?” Sherry demanded, sitting up in alarm. Even as she said it, the question struck her as stupid, since obviously she could see what he was doing. It was the why that surprised her. “Getting you warm.” Jake plucked the blanket from her grasp and pulled it away. Before she could protest, he settled his jacket around her shoulders. The warmth was almost shocking. She inhaled sharply in relief as the heat of him sank into her bones.

_'My God, Jake must be like a furnace, for his jacket to absorb that much of his body heat.'_

The sensation was so delicious she didn’t notice him sitting down again until he scooped her onto his lap. She went rigid with a brief moment of shock, then pushed hard at him as she swung one foot to the floor so she could stand. “Jake!” she whined. “What are you doing?” To her astonishment, he simply wrapped his arms around her and gathered her in as if she were a small child, lifting her feet onto the couch and holding her close.

He tucked the blanket around both of them, making sure her feet were covered. “Body heat,” he said calmly. “That’s one of the first things I learned when I became a merc, to huddle together when we got cold.” Sherry stilled, lured both by the incredible warmth wrapping around her and by the image his words brought up in her mind. She couldn’t help smiling. “I can just see all you tough young mercenaries cuddling together in front of a fire.”

Jake snorted. “Not cuddling, huddling. There’s a difference.” He laid his heavy hands over her feet; she was struck by the fact that his hand was big enough to cover both of her little feet. Heat began seeping through her socks to her icy toes. Convulsive shivering suddenly shook her, despite the warmth of coat, blanket, and body, and Jake gathered her closer, tucking her head under his chin and pulling the blanket up so that her nose was covered, warming the air she breathed.

“You’re going to smother me,” she protested. “Not for a while yet.” There was that note of laughter in his voice again, though when she rolled her head back to see, his mouth was perfectly straight. No, not straight; she paused, mesmerized by the clear cut of his lips. He had a good mouth, not too thin, not too full. Not so wide that a woman would feel as if she might fall in, and not so small it looked as if he’d just sucked a lemon like the last man she’d dated.

All in all, Jake’s lips looked just right...and close.

_'Close enough to kiss.'_

“You’re staring,” he pointed out smugly. Over the years she had been caught staring at people more times than she could remember, and usually, it didn’t bother her, but this time she blushed. “I do that,” she mumbled. “Stare at people. Try to predict their next move. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Stare away, Sher.” There was a warm, soft, indulgent tone in his voice that gave her another one of those alarming, exciting stomach flutters. It occurred to her that sitting in Jake’s lap was not a good way to discourage his flirtatious nature or flatten her own growing attraction. On the other hand, not only did she doubt he would let her get up, the warmth was so marvelous she didn’t want to get up, at least not now. Though she still shivered, she could tell the body heat thing was working, because the shivers were lessening in intensity.

“When did you become a mercenary?” She felt she had to say something because just sitting there was awkward, and if you couldn’t talk to a man when you were in his lap, then when could you?

“A long time ago, when I was young and stupid.”

“Why did you join? Or were you forced?” She had no idea why he joined. Their journey together had left little room for a heart to heart and whenever his status as a merc came into question, he would immediately clam up. “It was my choice. I didn’t have enough money to take care of my mom. And it turns out I had a knack for killing. I would probably still be killing for money if I hadn’t met you, Supergirl.”

_'Oh, Jake...'_

“Do you think you’ll ever go back to that life?” She whispered. “What? Fighting for scraps? Never. I prefer gunning down BOWs.” His body heat was seductive, melting her bones, leaching strength from her muscles. She felt herself sinking into him, molding to him like soft putty. The departing chill left her limp and sleepy, utterly relaxed. Sherry yawned and stuck her cold nose into the warm curve where jaw joined neck. She felt him give a little jump, but then his arms tightened.

She should get up. She knew she should. This was asking for trouble. She wasn’t a child, and she knew how intimate this situation was, and how much more intimate it could become. But the warmth...ah, God, the warmth! She was comfortable for the first time since getting out of bed that morning, more comfortable, truly, than she had been in a long time, at least a year.

An electric blanket didn’t provide the same kind of heat as another body, didn’t reach all the way down to the marrow of her bones. She yawned again and felt a chuckle rumble in his chest, his throat, though it never actually made it out.

“Go to sleep, Sherry,” he murmured, deep voice soothing and gentle. “I’ll take care of you.” Sherry wasn’t a trusting soul; a woman with her background couldn’t afford to be. But she didn’t have a moment’s doubt that Jake was a man of his word.

She could feel sleep coming, heavy and delicious, and she gave herself up to it with a little sigh. Maybe once she woke up they could sit on the couch together and watch movies. Their dinner date would just have to wait.

“Don’t let me sleep past six o’clock,” she said softly and closed her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> If Jake seemed a little OOC its because I believe that he has some experience in caring for the sick because he had to look after his sick mother and took up work as a mercenary to support her. I think he would act more compassionately towards those who are ill and in need of care because he knows how it feels to care for a sick family member. But this is Sherry, and he would do almost anything for her...so he would most definitely be committed to caring for his sick girlfriend. 
> 
> And if you're wondering where he got that expensive suit it was all Leon's idea. He caught wind of Jake and Sherry planning their first dinner date and wanted to make damn sure that Jake was prepared for it so Leon took it upon himself to pick Jake up from the airport and drive him to the nearest Men's Wearhouse where he painstakingly had Jake go through each suit until he found the perfect one. 
> 
> And if you're wondering why Leon was so invested in this, it's because he knows damn well Sherry and Jake are perfect for each other and wants them to at least have some happiness in their lives. Sherry is like a pseudo-daughter-figure to him, and he genuinely believes that Jake is nothing like his shitty dad and just needs someone to believe in him...so he supports their relationship 100%. But seriously, can you imagine Leon and Jake shopping for suits? Jake would grumble about not needing the help and Leon would just patiently go through the clothing rack xD.
> 
> The title of this fic came from Coldplay - Atlas. I was listening to it while typing this fic and I just had to incorporate some of the lyrics into the title.
> 
> Also, I was inspired to write this after reading Coffee and Conversation by Isla_Belle!


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